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“Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing his fingers lightly down her cheek.
“I’m fine. Just smarts a little.”
Still holding the gun to suit guys his head, Max reached around and relieved the man of his weapon, handing it to Morgan. She held the gun on him while Max patted him down, finding a knife strapped to his ankle. The same process was done to disarm the sweater guy. Both men were instructed to lie face down with hands and legs spread.
“How are we going to tie them up?” Sebastian asked. “It’s not like we have handcuffs.”
“If you can get me their keys, I’ll see what I can find in their SUV. I’m sure they had a plan if they found us. What self-respecting kidnapper wouldn’t?” Morgan asked with a little shrug.
Max found the keys in a suit pocket and threw them to Morgan. A few minutes later, she returned with plastic zip ties. “Yeah. These guys are planners,” she said, handing them to Max.
After securing the men, they moved them to the backseat of the SUV and zip-tied their feet and hands. Ignoring the threats and groans, Max searched the car for information. Morgan insisted Max put their jackets over them so they wouldn’t get cold. He couldn’t help but laugh at her concern, commenting that they wouldn’t have done the same for her. When the threat was neutralized, they returned to the RV.
“Are we leaving?” Sabastian asked.
“At sunrise. Let’s try to get some sleep. I’ll give the owner the keys to the SUV in the morning. He can call the police,” Max said.
“What if those men give our names to the police?” Sebastian asked.
“Not a chance in hell. They screwed this up badly, and they know it. They’ll probably spend the night trying to figure out what to tell Enzo that won’t get them killed.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Morgan startled awake to the sound of her phone ringing. She hoped it was Parker Livingston. As she fumbled around for the cell, she tried to wipe the fog from her head. Her fingers found the cell tucked under a t-shirt on the floor by the bed. Trying to focus on the screen, she noted the time as 6:12 a.m.
“H…hello?” she answered.
“Morning, Ms. Skylar. Parker Livingston. Sounds like I woke you. Sorry about that, but I felt it important enough to contact you immediately. I secured an agreement with the FBI.”
Morgan sat up, wiping her face. “Really? Is it a good thing or something I’d rather know when I’m more fully awake?”
He laughed. “No worries. It’s good news. They have agreed to hold you blameless for anything to do with the Dragon Fire or the ledger left to you by your grandfather. They did a thorough investigation of Eli Skylar, your grandfather’s alias, for the last 25 years and found no criminal activity. His business was clean. For a multitude of reasons, one being his insistence on only accepting cash for payment, the FBI assumed his business was being used for money laundering. Mr. Skylar cleverly employed a reputable bookkeeper who he insisted audit his books monthly.”
Morgan felt her eyes sting. “T…thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “Then there was the matter of the guns in your father’s mountain cabin. They were all confiscated to check the ballistics against any firearm-related crimes. Those tests came back negative. Although your grandfather had a bill of sale for all the weapons, the fact that he used an alias when he purchased them makes them all illegal. There were three guns missing, based on the purchase receipts. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Morgan swallowed hard and used her sweetest voice to respond. “Mr. Livingston, I’ve led a very sheltered and isolated life. What in the world would a kindergarten teacher need with a gun?” Not exactly a denial nor was it an admission.
He chuckled. “Now that I think about it, it is farfetched. Anyway, there wasn’t anything else of consequence in the cabin. Mr. Watson, your father’s attorney, had the paperwork for everything in his office, which made it easier for the FBI. They could tell you how much he spent on your tennis shoes when you were five years old.”
“Why would he keep all that paper?”
“My guess is he wanted to make sure he would never come under suspicion. Particularly if anyone found out his real identity. And by the way, there were no outstanding warrants for his arrest when he kidnapped you.”
Morgan bit her lip. “He didn’t kidnap me. He saved me from being human trafficked.”
“I know, Morgan, but it was still illegal. He would never have been granted custody of you. Social services would have found you a home.”
“That’s a big ‘if,’ Mr. Livingston. Who would want a kid from a drug-addicted mom and a dad who was a convicted child trafficker? Bad seed and all. I understand why Pops did it, and I’m grateful.”
“I am too, Morgan. He didn’t want to risk losing you. He apparently did everything in his power to walk the straight and narrow. By isolating you, he kept you out of harm’s way. You are now set up for a good life without being saddled with his past.”
“Until now,” Morgan sighed.
He cleared his throat. “Yes. It appears his past finally caught up to you.”
“Are they going to take his money from me? It doesn’t seem fair to his legacy.”
